


Solicitation

by Maiika



Series: Old West AU [4]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution, a closer look into Champ's, bawdry house, toddler Videl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiika/pseuds/Maiika
Summary: Hasky's venture out west was a huge change.  Not only in location and surroundings, but in occupation.  This new job, it wasn't anything she'd pictured for herself growing up, but it had its benefits.   She just hoped Champ's bawdry house in West City was a place where she could fit in - and remain hidden from unwanted discovery.





	Solicitation

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place about three years prior to the events of Western. Hasky from DB was glazed over in Western as Cell's first bounty target (you might have noticed).  Her perspective offers interesting insight to the history of bawdry houses/prostitution as well as the east compared to the west in those days, so she was the perfect POV for this.

Hasky watched the liquid swirl as it was poured into the glass, spreading caramel-hued effervescence into the space between Hasky and the pronounced cleavage flaunted in front of her eyes.  Taking the glass, Hasky frowned at the strikingly similar-looking prostitute pressing a glass to her lips in front of her. She imagined herself dressed like that.  
 

It wasn’t a pretty life, that of a prostitute.  Sure, they tried to cover it up with their extravagant perfumes, frilly lace, rouge and peeks of flesh.  They tried to make it pretty so their johns and any outsiders would see the illusion of glamour before closing in on the dirty reality.  They didn’t have Hasky, one of the stealthiest and most sought-after thieves in the East city of Chicago, fooled by their front.  She knew of the dangers, the disgusting old men, and the secrets she would be expected to put up with.  It was a hellhole, this mansion covered in gold and satin.  

But she shouldn’t judge - she was going to be joining it.  
 

Thieving had worked well for her back east, but whoring was the way, if a woman wanted to strike it rich out West.  Hasky had been tempted by the success stories of prostitutes who’d promoted themselves to madams and earned great respect as well as profits in these parts - something which could’ve never been done back east.  
 

She would miss home, but she couldn’t go back.  She could never go back to Chicago, not with the bounty on her head.  She’d been nearly caught, which unfortunately led to her bounty, which is why she was out here in search of the chance to start over.  If she worked as a prostitute and kept a low profile in this relatively unheard-of West City, hopefully no bounty hunter would ever find her.  Her past and the problem that could follow her might essentially be erased.  
 

“Well, Hasky,” said a deep, gravelly voice, “you’re certainly a pretty one.”  
 

Hasky glared up at the man.  He had a broad mustache over his squared chin and a bush of curly dark hair on top of his head.  His sleeves were rolled, his missing jacket likely off hanging on a hook somewhere, but his clothing was obviously expensive.  It was obvious that he didn’t let the money these women made for him go to waste.  
 

“You must be Mark Satan,” Hasky said before taking a sip of her liquor.  
 

The man smiled and traced his fingertips over his broad, dark mustache.  
 

Hasky upturned her palm and extended her arm across the table.  “Let me see your hand.”  
 

“What for?”

“I learned the art of reading palms back East.  I should be able to tell you something about your future, if you cooperate.”  
 

Mark frowned, rubbing his chin.  “I don’t know about this voodoo stuff.”  He narrowed his eyes as he took the seat between Hasky and the prostitute.  “Don’t you be trying any trickery on me.”  
 

“Since your future success might from now on be tied to mine,” Hasky said, “ _I’d_ like to know what I might find.  Wouldn’t you?”  
 

With a wary frown, Mark extended his hand and placed it in Hasky’s.  She flipped his calloused hand into a supine position and cradled it in both her hands. She moved her fingertips over the lines to study their paths.  It was true that she’d learned many skills back east that had nothing to do with prostitution.  In addition to thieving, she’d conned many people out of their money as a fortune teller in the past. Some men seemed to find the mystique about her ‘skill’ enticing.  
 

“You’ll find Mr. Satan,” said the blonde smirking from across the table, “has a thing for blondes.  Don’cha, Mark?”  
 

Hasky looked up from the dry palm, through her wisps of blond hair hanging in her eyes, to see Mr. Satan’s air of suspicion leaving him as his smile widened and his cheeks flushed pink.  Hasky smirked.  A bawdry house owner who could blush - now _that_ was a surprise.  
 

“Well, let’s not talk about me, Launch,” Mr. Satan said to the prostitute.  “I want to know more about the lovely Hasky.”  
 

Hasky’s eyes lowered to Mr. Satan’s palm as she muttered, “I’m _sure_ you do.”  
 

“You do know what the job entails, don’cha, Sweetheart?”  
 

Hasky raised a brow.  “Being called Sweetheart, for one.”

“And,” Launch said, “spending most of your day either on your back or washing up for your next john.” 

“But it’s not all bad,” added the blue-haired teenager who’d remained quiet, standing in the back of the room.  “Mr. Satan takes good care of us here.  He don’t let any men knock us around.  And he gives us a fair share of what we make.”  
 

The comment sparked Hasky’s interest.  She looked to the whore named Launch.  “What’s ‘a fair share’?”  
 

Launch crossed her arms and sent a peevish glare to the back of the room.  “That’s _subjective_ , apparently.”  
 

 “My women bring in plenty of money and I pay them well, Hasky,” Mr. Satan said before giving Hasky a wink.  “ _If_ you agree to stay, you’ll see that soon enough.”  
 

Hasky scowled as she peeled one hand from Mr. Satan’s palm to reach beneath her dress for the pack of cigarettes she’d tucked between her bosoms.  Once she started dressing like these women, she figured she was going to have to find a new place to hide her cigarettes.  She would have to flaunt her feminine assets like _they_ did, after all.  She swiped a cigarette from the pack and twirled it between her fingers as she looked up to see Launch already striking a match on the table.  
 

“So,” Hasky said as she panned her gaze across the three faces surrounding her, “we all on a first name basis around here?”  
 

“Pretty much,” Launch said with an indifferent shrug. She held the flame to the tip of Hasky’s cigarette, before sweeping her other hand beneath the collar of Hasky’s dress to swipe a cigarette while meeting Hasky’s gaze with a smirk.  “ _And_ we all share.”  
 

“What’s mine is yours,” Hasky said. She returned the smirk, knowing very well that exchange would work both ways.  
 

“You already know that’s Launch,” Mr. Satan said, his eyes fixed on his palm in Hasky’s grasp.  “She’s relatively new here, but she’s proved to be a fast learner.  Over there is Maron,” Mr. Satan said before pausing to scratch his brow, “...who’s still learning.  And you know me, the owner of this house and _founder_ of Champ’s, Mark Satan.”  
 

Having her cigarette now lit and glowing embers at the tip, Hasky inhaled deeply before blowing out the fragrant smoke with her words. “Can I call you Mark?”  
 

“Y-yeah, of course, Darlin’,” Mark said, still staring at his palm.  
 

“Good,” Hasky said with a frown, her gaze shooting past Mr. Satan so she could more thoroughly take in her surroundings.  “And you can call me _Hasky_.”  
 

Launch scoffed, threw her fishnet-covered leg over the table, and blew out a swirling plume of smoke from her supple lips.  “You want him to actually remember to call you by your _name_?  Good luck with that.”  
 

“Launch,” Mark said reproachfully, before shaking his head and frowning at his palm again.  “I use your name...sometimes.”  
 

Hasky had noticed during this conversation several things about her new surroundings.  There were other whores upstairs.  She could hear the noises through the thin wooden walls, proving some johns were also in the house, being entertained.  She could guess there were five, six, maybe as many as ten women living here, if some were quiet at the moment.  The house was certainly big enough to support that much.  The success of this bawdry house was very apparent.  Every surface was richly decorated with vivid colors and luxurious fabrics.  But compared to other bawdry houses she’d seen back east, Hasky also noticed a few inconsistencies.  There was plenty of liquor, but not a single bottle stored low or even within convenient reach.  The ones stored on high shelves were locked behind glass doors.  There was nothing blatantly perverse within sight, which was contrary to what Hasky expected to see on first glance.  One could walk in and not think this was a bawdry house at all, if not for the amount of enticing, curvaceous inhabitants with beautiful, painted faces.  Hasky’s eyes narrowed as she glanced toward the carpeted stairs leading up to the second floor.  She gasped, realizing she’d seen something move.  Whatever it was, it had ducked behind the stairs.  She could see a peek of black poking up and moving from behind one step.  
 

“So?” Mark said eagerly, though it was clear by his tone that he was trying to feign disinterest.  “What does my palm tell you?”  
 

Hasky’s eyes flitted to Mark’s face, her mind instantly returning to her palm reading as Mark’s hand flinched in her grip.  She bought herself a minute to gather her thoughts by taking a long drag from her cigarette. She was careful to make it look sexy by tipping her head back _just slightly_ before blowing out the smoke in a steady stream through pursed lips.  She wanted to make sure to be hired here, after all.  Without this job, she would be vulnerable to whatever renegade bountymen decided to come looking for her out west.  

She had to make this reading good. “You have many successful years in business ahead of you here, Mark.”  
 

Mark’s eyes widened before he schooled his features with a smug smile.  “Of course, I knew that.  Everyone in West City knows that.”  
 

“No other bawdry houses will be opening up here,” she continued with another puff of her cigarette, knowing the chances of new businessmen wanting to settle here and compete with something _this_ successful were highly unlikely.  “There is one problem which may complicate your future.”  
 

Hasky’s eyes narrowed as she watched Mark’s face for a reaction.  When his expression shifted from surprise to scrutiny to defensive aggressiveness within the frame of a second, Hasky gasped.  That wasn’t the reaction to her prodding she expected.  She’d hoped her remark would clarify for her what he was hiding, the thing that was amiss about this place.  Now, his bared teeth had her confused and taken aback.  Whatever it was, he was protective of it.  
 

“I hope you’re not talkin’ about my daughter,” Mark growled, “because she ain’t a problem!  She won’t be in the future, neither!”  
 

“Daughter?”  
 

“That’s right.”  Mark looked over his shoulder then the other, before turning to Maron.  “Maron, honey, you seen Videl around?  Who’s watchin’ her now?”  
 

Maron’s eyes bulged.  “Oh!  I think _I_ was s’ppossed to be.  Oops!”  
 

As Mark growled, Hasky noticed the hint of black behind the stairs bobbing out from behind it to bear to her the baby face of a blue-eyed toddler.  A toddler with a scowl on her face.  
 

“I here, Da!”  
 

“Videl!”  Mark jumped to his feet, slamming his chair beneath the table and running to scoop the toddler into his arms.  “Didn’t Daddy tell you to never come down here alone?”  
 

The little girl pursed her cherubic lips and pointed a stubby finger at Hasky.  “Who dat?”  
 

“New girl,” Launch said.  “Now be a good girl and go on upstairs like your daddy told ya.”  
 

Videl’s blue eyes blinked brightly.  “A new gi-wl?”  
 

“Yeah,” Maron said, waving her arms to usher Videl to the stairs.  “Now let’s go, kid.  Don’t you have some dolls to play with or somethin’?”  
 

Videl dug her tiny heels in and slashed her fist through the air in a fit of rebellion.  “Don’ wan’ dows!”  
 

Hasky raised a brow at what was happening around her, still processing the fact that a little girl was being raised in this bawdry house.  She wondered which one might be the mother - though she doubted either Launch or Maron would be.  When Launch grunted, Hasky’s eyes shifted to her.  She was surprised to see a grin spreading across the prostitute’s face.  
 

“Damn, I love your spunk,” Launch said with a chuckle.  
 

“Launch!” Mark snapped, grimacing.  “Watch your language!”  
 

“Tell you what, Videl,” Launch continued, leaning forward conspiratorially.  “You head on up now, and _later_ , Auntie Launch will tell you a bedtime story.”  
 

When Launch sent Videl a wink, the little girl’s eyes lit up.  “Weally?”  
 

In spite of Mark’s aghast expression, Launch smiled.  “Better shoo before I change my mind.”  
 

The little girl scurried up the stairs, stumbling over the wide steps along the way, a barrage of clunky noises following to announce her presence.  After Maron heaved a heavy sigh, brushed her long blue hair over her bare shoulder, and grabbed the stair bannister to follow, Hasky turned her eyes on Mark.  He had a scowl on his face, but his gaze was distant, as if he was deep in thought.  
 

Launch drew her leg down from the table and clapped Mark on the back.  “Eh, don’t worry, Mark.  I won’t tell her anything _too_ scandalous.”  
 

With a weary sigh, Mark rubbed his brow and turned his blue eyes on Hasky.  “Well, what do you think?  Will you be joining my girls?”  
 

“That depends,” Hasky said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.  “How often do y’all get infamous patrons here?”  
 

“Here?”  Launch scoffed.  “A few of them are infamous to the people of West City, but that’s about as far as these names go.”  
 

“Bunch of nobodies,” Mark laughed.  “That’s who comes around here!  Why, the only new guy to come to West City within the last couple years never even stepped foot in this house.  He settled down and married almost the minute he strolled into town.”  
 

“That’s it?” Hasky asked.  “No one else?”  
 

“The only notable names around here are mine and the Briefs,” Mark said.  “But we’re not infamous.  We’re _famous_.”  
 

Launch shook her head.  “ _Dr. Brief_ is.”  
 

Hasky smiled.  This sounded perfect.  If no one of notoriety had come by West City for the past few years, it was the ideal place for her to lie low.  She could fit in with this group of people, specifically with the women in this bawdry house.  She would have to, if she was going to con them into accepting her as one of their own.  

She could get used to spreading her legs for a comfortable living - it was far better than the alternative of ending up behind bars, or even worse, six feet under.  Hasky liked her freedom, she liked her life, and hell, if she was being honest with herself, she liked sex.  She couldn’t help but notice how handsome the deputy was who offered her a shy but friendly welcome when she first arrived at the Main Street, looking for _Champ’s_.  If the rest of the town wasn’t too shabby, she could handle this.  After all, Hasky was a master thief in her past life in Chicago - she already _knew_ how to handle men. Not one had come along yet who she couldn’t best.  Handling them for a living seemed such an obvious choice, she didn’t know why she hadn’t turned to prostitution beforehand.

Hasky struck her hand out, meeting Mark’s gaze with a sly smile.  “I’m in.  Got a room for me, Mr. Satan?”

Mark shook her hand and smirked, his blue eyes locked with Hasky’s. “Launch, can you show the lovely Hasky to her room? I think you’ll find it a comfortable fit for you here, Hasky.”

Launch’s arm wrapped smoothly over Hasky’s shoulder and pulled her away from Mark. “And if it’s not a comfortable fit, just think about the money.”

Hasky allowed Launch to lead her up the stairs with a smile on her face. The money. The _freedom_. This was what this new life in West City would afford her.


End file.
